Page 121 of Road Trip with a Vampire
As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, the full reality of the situation finally struck home.
I was going to see Peter again. Soon.
This is fine, I told myself.
Everything was going to befine.
During the most stilted textconversation in history, in which I told Peter he had the job, we agreed he would do most of the roofing work at nighttime. Partly so he could avoid the sun while outside for hours on end and partly to minimize the disruption his inevitable hammering would cause during class time.
It was seven that evening when he arrived, a few hours after the sun had set. Peter’s long shadow announced his arrival before he came fully into view. I swallowed, doing my best to ignore how my heartbeat kicked up when he stepped closer and his face came into the light.
Just because I was still attracted to him didn’t mean anything, I reminded myself.
It didn’t mean anything at all.
He wore the same clothes he’d worn the night he’d first waltzed into my studio and turned my life upside down. A snug-fitting black T-shirt, one that hugged his torso the same way my traitorous arms still wanted to, tucked into jeans that fit him just as well.
He looked every bit as good as I remembered. He wore the same nervous expression from that first night, too, and it took everything in me not to leap into his arms and tell him all was forgiven.
He slid his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the studio’s open doorway. It was abundantly clear he was trying for casual, and I would have laughed if I weren’t so nervous myself. Everything else might have changed, but some things never did. Peter did not, and never would, have a casual bone in his body.
“Thanks for coming,” I managed, trying for casual, too. And failing just as badly as he was.
He shrugged, his eyes dropping to the ground. “I said I’d come.”
“You did.” Gods, this was awkward. “You’re sure about doing all this work? And for free?”
“Very.” His gaze found mine. “About both.”
Why?I wanted to ask. But I already knew. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he said it out loud.
He cleared his throat. “Did you, um…Did you like the cookies?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “Yes,” I said, hoping I was giving offappreciativevibes. “Thank you.”
His posture relaxed slightly, as if my answer was a relief. “I’m glad. Hopefully a roofer working at night won’t seem too odd to your neighbors. I should have thought of that earlier.”
I chuckled. “It would take more than fixing a roof at night to seem odd around here,” I said honestly. “You can’t do this work in broad daylight either way.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. My eyes were helplessly drawn to the movement. I’d missed all his little microexpressions more than I’d realized. I’d missed his mouth, too, if I was being honest with myself.
“I, uh…” He rubbed at the back of his neck. Blew out a breath. “I have all the roofing supplies out in my truck. Shingles. Tools. I’ll just…get started.”
My mind caught on the first part of what he’d said. “You have a truck?” I couldn’t picture it at all.
Another amused quirk of his lips. “Just renting it.” He inclined his head towards our parking lot. “I’ve parked it behind your building. Hope that’s all right.”
“We canceled all our classes on account of our power being out most of the day,” I said. “We won’t need the parking lot tonight. If you’re working on our roof, you’re welcome to it.”
“Right,” he said. And then as an afterthought: “Thank you.”
We stood there staring at each other for several long seconds that seemed to unspool for hours. There were so many things I wanted to ask him about what he’d been doing since I’d last seen him. Was he sleeping better now that he knew who he was? Had the nightmares stopped?
Did he miss me the way I missed him despite all my attempts at putting him out of my mind?
None of the words would come, though. Had Peter not ended the connection first, stepping away from me and averting his eyes, I might have stood there all night just wordlessly gazing at him.
“Right,” Peter said again, then cleared his throat. “Well, then. I guess I’ll be off.”
